


Inside-Out

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [55]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Panic, mean-spirited but technicaly harmless pranks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:13:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Someone plays a joke on Logan.Or, well – on Thomas.Neither of them are very amused.





	Inside-Out

**Author's Note:**

> for this prompt from [@amtgurly](amtgurly.tumblr.com) over on tumblr:
> 
> "Hey I just kinda wanted to send this as I like the idea of this angst prompt for your LAOFT series. I'm not sure if you want it or if you've ever thought of something like this but someone planting some fae-repellent thing on Thomas and Logan having a bad reaction later and Thomas crying about it like he did it on purpose. I love your stuff and I remembered the corn sack but someone trying it through Thomas would be an an absolute nightmare to my heart."
> 
> As well as inspired by a tidbit in [fearful of the night](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030849) by @centreoftheselights which was just fucking STELLAR and if you havent read it go do that pretty please

Thomas narrowed his eyes at his cubby-hole, suspicious.

The basket drawer was pulled out, even though Thomas knew he’d pushed it in all the way. His stuff was mixed up, like someone had been fishing in it.

Thomas pulled it out all the way, moving things around. Nothing was missing, and there was nothing extra in it.

“Is something the matter, Thomas?” called Mrs. Gray.

Thomas wrinkled his nose.

“… No, ma’am,” he said.

“Then can you finish putting your things away and get your jacket and backpack, please?” she said pointedly.

Thomas gave his cubby-hole one last suspicious look, before setting his books in it and moving down the wall to his hook.

He slipped his arms in the sleeve of his brown cardigan, not bothering to button it over his shirt – it wasn’t nearly cool enough for it, and Thomas wouldn’t have worn it at all if Momma hadn’t insisted. Grabbing his backpack, he made his way to the end of the line and following the kids in front of him out the door.

Several adults were already waiting in the pick up line, though Thomas didn’t see his mom’s car. He scanned the crowd, and saw Logan already sitting in the grass, picking blades from the ground and blowing on them to make noise. He trotted over.

“Momma’s usually first here, I wonder why she’s late,” he said, flopping into the grass beside his brother.

Logan didn’t respond.

“Bad day?” said Thomas sympathetically.

Still nothing, and Thomas winced. Must be an _especially_ bad day.

They sat in silence, and then Thomas caught sight on the car; standing, he brushed some grass from his jeans.

“C’mon, Berry. Maybe mom will let us have jam for snack, since you had a bad day,”

The silence stretched. Logan didn’t move.

“… Berry?” said Thomas, a little nervous.

Mom honked the horn, and Logan’s head jerked up. He frowned at the car, and then looked around him like he was confused.

He didn’t look at Thomas at all.

“Logan?” said Thomas, “You- you’re kinda freakin’ me out, Berry,”

Logan stood from the ground, still silent and frowning. He walked past Thomas with out so much as glancing at him, and Thomas started to feel like the ground was tilting.

“Berry,” he croaked, “Logan, c’mon, this isn’t _funny_-”

He followed, and Logan continued to ignore Thomas’s increasingly hysterical shouting. Other kids and few teachers were starting to stare.

Logan open the back door of the car.

“I have not seen Thomas,” he said, and Thomas felt like someone had punched him right in the stomach.

“Do you you want me to go in looking for him?” Logan continued.

Mom had turned in the driver’s seat, gaping. Her gaze flickered between the two of them.

“Honey…” she said, “What do you mean, you haven’t seen Thomas?”

Logan cocked his head.

“I don’t know what part of the statement is confusing you,” he said, baffled.

Mom worried her lip.

“Get in the car, sweetie,”

“But what about Thoma-”

“Why can’t he see me?” said Thomas, and Logan didn’t even stop his sentence, didn’t notice at all that Thomas was talking over him; and Thomas didn’t realize he was crying until his voice came out strangled and wet, “Momma what’s going on, why can’t Berry see me-”

“Calm down, honey,” she said, and Logan looked even more baffled.

“I am calm,” he said warily, “You- you look distressed,”

“If you gimme just a minute honey, we’re gonna go to the side parking lot. Please get in the car,”

Logan hesitated, then began to climb in.

“I- wait,” said Momma suddenly, looking between Logan and Thomas and the door.

“Okay,” she breathed, “Never mind, that won’t- just- just wait a second, sweetie,”

She killed the engine, putting the car in park and climbing out of the driver’s side.

She came around, and Logan was looking genuinely distressed.

“What is happening?” he said, “You- you are alarming me, Mom,”

“I know honey, I’m sorry,” she said sadly, “Please, just- just give me another second,”

She turned and looked Thomas over.

“Momma, what’s _happening_,” he pleaded, “What’s wrong with him, did someone hurt him-”

“Oh,” said Momma softly, her eyes going a little shiny.

She bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head.

“Tommy, sweetheart,” she said, and Logan went still as stone next to him, “Could you fix your jacket for me?”

“My-?”

Thomas looked down.

The buttons. They faced his shirt – the thread of the seams on his shoulders was the same color as the fabric, so he hadn’t noticed.

His jacket was inside-out.

Scrambling, Thomas’s back pack hit the ground and he yanked off the jacket.

The second it was off him, Logan jerked back, straight into the side of the car, his eyes wide and his mouth gaping.

“You- where did you-?”

He looked down at the jacket Thomas had dropped on the ground, the tag sticking straight up in the air. His shoulders slumped.

“Oh,” he said, his voice small.

Thomas started sobbing.

“Oh, honey-”

“Wh- don’t, don’t cry-” said Logan anxiously, “It- it’s fine Thomas, I know it was an accident-”

“It wasn’t!” said Thomas, furious tears leaking out of his eyes, “Someone did it on _purpose_, someone messed with my stuff and turned it inside-out to be _mean_ to us and you couldn’t see me or hear me talking-”

“Tommybug, lets go home, okay?” said Momma, “I know you’re upset – I’ll get you some tea. Let’s go, honey, come on,”

Thomas hiccuped, and Logan reached out to take his hand. Pulling, he led Thomas into the car.

“Seat belts, please,” said Momma, and Logan actually reached across Thomas to do the belt for him. Then he sat in the center seat, clicked his own, and leaned firmly onto Thomas’s shoulder.

“I know-”

He coughed a little.

“I know squishing is not as pleasant for you as it is for me,” he said, “But I hope it is… somewhat helpful,”

Thomas wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulders and set his cheek on top of Logan’s head. His chest still jumped with the occasional sob.

It wasn’t like this was the first time someone had been mean to Berry.

It never got easier – especially because Logan always tried to _hide_ it. Thomas _hated_ it – he wasn’t supposed to hate things but he did, and he wasn’t even sorry about it.

And he didn’t understand it either – didn’t understand why the whole world seemed _designed_ to just – to just _pick_ on his brother, _all the time_, it wasn’t fair at all.

Not even counting the times people did it on _purpose_.

And this time – _this time_, it was _Thomas’s_ fault. He’d gotten distracted and gotten _tricked_ and hadn’t even _noticed_ his cardigan was inside out.

He remembered how Berry had flinched like someone had hit him, and then his face had fallen when Thomas got the jacket off, and Thomas started crying all over again.

Logan made a small, distressed noise, and wormed his arms around Thomas’s ribs to squeeze him.

They barely let go for the rest of the day, not when they climbed out of the car or sat on the couch and put on Iron Giant.

_Your shadow_, said some mean voice in the back of his head.

It wasn’t true. They might _look_ alike, but Logan wasn’t his copy, or his shadow, or a- or a _fake_ Thomas, or any of the other horrible stuff people said about him. He was _Logan_ and he was Thomas’s brother and better than all of them _anyway._

Eventually, Berry couldn’t help but fall asleep on Thomas’s shoulder – squishing always did that, made him sleepy, and Thomas guessed it didn’t matter which of them was doing the squishing.

After it got dark, Dad came in and placed his hand on Thomas’s head.

“Bedtime, buddy,” he said softly.

Thomas didn’t answer.

“Tommy?”

“S’not fair,” said Thomas.

Dad got quiet.

“Why do they pick on him?” said Thomas, his voice getting all croaky again, “I don’t get it. He’s great. Why would anybody ever be mean to him?”

“Who cares?”

Thomas jerked, and looked down at Logan, who was frowning up at him through his glasses sitting crooked on his nose.

“What do you mean ‘who cares?’” said Thomas, “_I_ care,”

Logan shrugged.

“It is annoying,” he said, “Sometimes it does hurt my feelings. But it honestly seems to upset _you_ far more than it does me. I find the bullying mostly inconsequential,”

Thomas narrowed his eyes.

“Last word?”

“Inconsequential,” Logan repeated, “It mostly doesn’t matter to me,”

“Why not?”

Logan shrugged.

“I have you,” he said simply.

Thomas stared at him.

“You are my best friend,” Logan continued, “We are uniquely suited to _be_ best friends, and you would still be my best friend even if I had a hundred others,”

Logan gave him a small smile.

“Would I _prefer_ people not sneak counter-charms into our belongings? Yes, obviously. But it is not the end of the world, in a figurative _or_ literal sense,”

He wormed his arms back around Thomas’s middle.

“By far the most distressing aspect of the situation is _your_ distress,” he said, “I do not like when you are unhappy,”

It was about the longest feelings-y thing Logan had ever said. Thomas squeezed his shoulders again, and Logan relaxed slightly.

“You’re my best friend, too,” said Thomas wetly.

“Obviously,” said Logan, rolling his eyes a little.

“We’re havin’ a _moment_, Berry!”

“That is a nonsensical turn of phrase,” said Logan petulantly, “You cannot _cease_ having moments, time is constantly moving forward because we are three-dimensional beings-”

Logan kept up his explanation as Dad finally got them to get off the couch and go to their room, still holding hands.

And even though Thomas only understood about every third word, it… helped. Made him feel less like he was gonna pop like a balloon in the dart booth at a carnival.

And when Logan didn’t even hesitate to crawl into Thomas’ bed instead of his own, Thomas was sure he had the best friend in the entire world, and that the rest of the world just didn’t know what they were missing.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me at [@tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) over on tumblr!


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